Return to London
by K.D. Toling
Summary: COMPLETE! Just when Muggle London thought it was safe, Fred, George, and Lee decide to revisit the city. And this time, they don't have to worry about Mrs. Weasley.
1. Chapter 1: For Old Time's Sake

Author's Note: Well, here it is *beams*: the first chapter of the sequel to "Lost in London"! Before we get into the actual story, though, there's three things you need to know:

1. This story takes place the summer after Fred, George, and Lee's seventh year.

2. Some of the items for pranks that Fred, George, and Lee will undoubtedly pull will be from OotP. I don't really consider this a spoiler, but I just thought I should let you all know in case any of you do.

3. I have to go back to school next week *sulks and mutters*, so my updates will be farther apart than they used to be.

Disclaimer: To make a long story short, I don't own Fred, George, or Lee. I just borrow them and hope that they'll still be fit to appear in all future Harry Potter books once I'm through with them! !-)

Chapter 1: For Old Time's Sake

Fred Weasley opened his eyes and blinked against the early morning sunlight that was streaming in through the window of the bedroom that he shared with George. He sat up and yawned, running a hand through his tousled red hair as he looked over at the reason he'd been awakened in the first place: George and his snoring. 

"Blimey, he could wake a drunk goblin!" muttered Fred groggily to no one in particular. It was Sunday, the one day of the week where he, George, and Lee could sleep in as late as they wanted since they closed Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for the day. 

Fred sighed in an exasperated way as yet another one of George's snores that Fred was sure shook the room split through the air. Deciding that enough was enough, he shoved his covers back and climbed out of bed, stepping over the piles of clothes, shoes, and the occasional Chocolate Frog as he made his way over to his brother's bed. Smirking, he knelt down next to his twin's head and whispered, "George?"

George muttered something in his sleep and pulled his blankets over is head.

"George?" said Fred, slightly louder this time. A snore from under the covers was the only response he got. Not about to give up, Fred lifted the blanket a few inches off of George's ear, drew in a deep breath, and screamed, "GEORGE!" at the top of his lungs.

Letting out a cry like a startled animal, George sat bolt upright in bed, got tangled in his sheets, and toppled off of the bed, landing in a rather undignified heap on floor. Fred, though he struggled to keep from laughing, was unable to suppress a satisfied smirk as George stood from the other side of the bed, yanking the sheet that had landed on top of him when he'd fallen off of his head as he glowered at Fred.

"What did you do that for?" he asked in annoyance at being woken up.

"What?" said Fred, trying and failing to sound innocent. "I just curious about whether you were snoring, or if a dragon had somehow gotten inside of your mouth and was causing the awful racket that woke me up. It was the first one."

"Glad you were able to satisfy your _curiosity_," said George, though he wasn't really angry and was only retorting for show, "but did you have to wake me up?"

"Hm...no, actually, I didn't," said Fred lightly, his smirk broadening at the glower that George was sending him. "It just seemed like it would be fun. Besides, now that you're awake, you can help me wake Lee up."

The look of remaining grumpiness instantly vanished from George's face, and a look of mingled curiosity and desire to cause mischief took its place. "What did you have in mind?" he asked. Fred bent down and picked up a pack of Dungbombs from beside George's bed, pulling a dirty sock off of the package as he straightened.

"How about these?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Alright," agreed George. "But let's not use too many. Remember what happened last time?"

"How could I forget?" replied Fred, rolling his eyes as he handed George a Dungbomb and pocketed one for himself before he set the bag carefully back onto the ground. "We had to stay with Mum and Dad for a week while this place aired out!"

They made their way over to the door and went into the hallway. Then, walking in silence that only those who are used to sneaking around and pulling pranks on people possess, they crept up the small hallway to Lee's room and quietly opened the door. Lee was completely hidden beneath his blankets except for his left foot, which was sticking out from the covers to just slightly beyond his mattress.

"Odd, but we seem to discover more uses for these little beauties every day," said Fred, looking at the Dungbomb in his hand with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Yeah, they're dead useful with a deadly smell to match," agreed George, peering into Lee's room and trying to calculate just how hard he would need to chuck his Dungbomb to make it land on right next to Lee's bed on a pile of clothes that had yet to be put away.

"Let's do it now, before he wakes up," suggested Fred, though he knew that he odds of Lee waking up before noon without outside help were next to none.

"Right," agreed George, nodding and taking careful aim with his Dungbomb.

"Ready," said Fred, grasping his own Dungbomb in his hand. "Aim...FIRE!" The two of them chucked the Dungbombs into the room and slammed the door shut again.

"ARGH!" came Lee's voice a moment later, along with much coughing and cursing. Fred and George exchanged a grin and stepped back to lean casually against the wall as they heard the patter of Lee's feet as he wrenched the door open and bolted into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. He leaned against his door, taking in deep breaths of clean air as he glared at Fred and George.

"I'm going to bloody _kill_ you two for that!" he said.

"Good morning to you too, Lee," said Fred brightly.

"Sleep well?" asked George innocently. Lee sighed and threw his hands up in the air in a rather exasperated fashion.

"Yeah, I slept well," he said flatly, "though I would have slept a lot better if _some people_ hadn't taken it upon themselves to give me a personal wake-up call!"

"You wouldn't have slept better," said Fred.

"Just longer," added George. 

"You know what I mean," grumbled Lee, rubbing sleep from his eyes before adding, "And thanks _loads_ for making my room smell like a Slytherin! I almost feel bad for that bloke that I dropped a Dungbomb in front of that day before our third year when we checked out Muggle London; I'd forgotten how much they smell when you're caught in the center of them!"

"Yeah, I remember that guy. I thought we'd never get any sort of reaction out of him," said George, grinning at the memory.

"That was _such_ a great day!" added Fred.

"Until your mum found us," said Lee, smiling grimly in spite of himself. "I thought she'd _never _stop yelling once we got back to your house!"

"I don't reckon she would've stopped if she hadn't lost her voice," said Fred. Lee nodded, then looked back at his bedroom door in disgust.

"Well, I can't go back in there for _at least _a day or so," he said, though his voice was now more of amusement than grumpiness, "so what say we spend the rest of the day in Muggle London for old time's sake? We could get some Muggle money and a map of the city at Gringotts." 

Fred looked over at George. "What do you reckon?" he asked, though he already knew what George's answer would be by the grin spreading across George's face.

"I reckon," said George, "that one, we'd better go and look for our set of Muggle clothes and two, that we'd better stay away from Speaker's Corner this time. I dunno about you, but I don't really want to get chased by a crazy short bloke and a mad mob this time around."

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I _think_ I might be able to post one more time before school starts, but I have a couple of things going on over the next few days, so we'll just see how it all goes. Anyway, REVIEW! If you like it, review. If you hate it, review. Either way, just review! Also, which one do you like best: Fred, George, or Lee? I like George! :-)

REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	2. Chapter 2: The Last Place Anyone Would T...

Author's Note: I have to go back to school tomorrow, but I wanted to get this chapter up before then. I'll probably be really busy with homework and the like from now on, so I don't know when I'll be able to update again. I'm going to try and do it at least once a week, but I can't make any promises just yet. If you want something else to read in the mean time, check out my other fic "A Place in Your Heart". It's a song fic, and I'd really like to get some more feedback on it! Also, check out my list of favorites.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own them.

Chapter 2: The Last Place Anyone Would Think to Look

Less than an hour later, Fred, George, and Lee walked down the sunny streets of London, examining a map they'd gotten at Gringotts as they went.

"We could go to a museum," suggested George, pointing out one on the map, but Fred shook his head.

"Nah, remember last time? Took us forever to dry off," he pointed out.

"Oh yeah..."

"What about this park here?" said Lee, jabbing at a green spot on the map. George looked over at it and grinned slightly.

"I wouldn't; that's where we met dear old Lingsworth, remember?" he said.

"How could I forget?" said Lee, sighing. "We had to hide in that dumpster that smelled worse than Snape's office."

"What about that place?" said George, looking not at the map, but across the street. Fred and Lee followed his gaze.

"You mean _that _place, mate?" said Lee incredulously, pointing across the street as though he was certain that he had misheard George. George nodded.

"Uh-huh," he said. Fred turned to his twin with a slightly questioning look on his face.

"What about it?" he asked.

"Let's have a look," replied George. Fred looked as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"George, let me remind you that the only time we ever set foot in one of those was when we hid in the one at Hogwarts from Filch that one time," said Fred in a slow, clear tone that one might use with a two year old. 

"Yeah, the one place he never thought to look for us," said Lee with a slight smirk before he became serious and said, "But honestly, George, why would you want to go in _this _one?"

"Well, Hermione sure seemed to like the one at Hogwarts, so I want to see how it's so different from that one," said George with a shrug. "Who knows," he added with a grin twitching at his lips, "Maybe we'll even be able to add a few..._improvements_."

Fred arched an eyebrow in approval. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go," he said. And so the three of them set off across the street toward the very last place Filch, and indeed anyone, would think to look for them: the public library.

**********

"Blimey," whispered Fred as they stepped inside. 

"Well, from what I remember about the Hogwart's library, I'd say this one has to be almost as big," commented Lee.

"C'mon, let's look around," said George. "Hm...that corner could do with a Portable Swamp." 

They made their way further into the library. Though in size it seemed to resemble the Hogwarts library, it became apparent the moment they looked at the books on the shelves that there wasn't likely to be much in the way of spellbooks. 

Their footsteps echoed slightly on the hard wood floor, and there was an overall atmosphere of gloom and boredom about, especially since the only windows were located near the ceiling, and since the room itself seemed almost as tall as it was long, that was saying something. 

"Hey, look over--" began Lee, but was cut off by an irritable _"Shhhh!"_ from a grumpy-looking librarian who was arranging books nearby. 

"Er...sorry, Miss!" he whispered. The woman gave him a severe look before heading off to finish with her books and no doubt find someone else who dared to speak in her library.

"Miserable old bat; reminds me of Madam Pince," muttered Lee once she was out of earshot. "Anyway, look there!" he said, careful to keep his voice down as he pointed at an area devoted to comic books.

"I didn't know Muggle's had these too!" said Fred in an excited whisper as they looked at the different comics on display.

"Yes, but it doesn't look as though they have _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle_," said George in a disappointed tone. Fred shrugged and pulled the nearest comic off the shelf, leaning against another shelf to read it.

"You know, this is okay, but it'd be better if the pictures--" he began, but at that moment, the shelf behind him began to tilt due to his leaning against it. Fred sprang away from it faster than a student exiting Potions, but it was too late. With an ominous groan, the shelf fell over onto the next shelf, which in turn set off a chain reaction of falling shelves as shelves continued to fall into each other. The librarian hurried toward the falling shelves, a panicked look on her face.

_"No! Stop, stop, STOP!"_ she screeched, but the shelves, contrary to what the woman may have hoped would happen if she shouted loud enough, did not stop until every last shelf in the row and been knocked over and hundreds of books littered the floor. Realizing that about half of her precious library had just been ruined in a matter of seconds, she furiously scanned the library for the unfortunate soul who had done such a thing. Not surprisingly, her gaze halted abruptly on Fred, George, and Lee, who were trying to smile innocently at her while edging cautiously toward the door.

"You three," she growled, seeming to swell to twice her size with anger as she began to march furiously toward them. "JUST LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

"Ah, now, now, Miss, don't forget, this is a library," said Fred uneasily.

"Yes, do keep your voice down," added George, his hands held before him like a shield. The woman picked up her pace. 

"When I get a hold of you three, I'll--"

"RUN!" said Lee, cutting her off and dashing toward the exit, Fred and George hot on his heels.

"COME BACK HERE!" yelled the librarian, running as fast as she could after them.

"You know, my dad _did_ say once that running away from your problems never solves anything," said Lee as they sprinted for the doors.

"Yeah, well he's never been chased by a dotty old librarian who wanted to kill him, has he?" ground out George through clenched teeth as they burst through the doors. 

Lee glanced over his shoulder and saw the librarian (who suddenly looked more like a vicious, bloodthirsty tiger) and said, "True!"

They ran down the front steps and onto the sidewalk, not halting until they were well away from the library and, more importantly, the librarian, who had stopped at the front doors to the library and gone back inside, muttering about corrupted youth nowadays. Meanwhile, the three members of "corrupted youth" that had just destroyed her library collapsed onto a bench on the sidewalk.

"Well, we definitely...redecorated a bit," said George, trying to catch his breath.

"I'd hate...to see what she...does to someone...if they're late returning...returning a book!" gasped Lee, amid vigorous nods from Fred and George.

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Response to reviewers:

MarauderLuver4-ever: You weren't kidding when you said they were going to destroy the place! *chuckles* Poor librarian. Just think about how long it'll take her to pick up all the pretty little books. !-)

S.D. Chesko: Hm...I'm guessing you're happy about the fact that I made a sequel? Just a wild guess. What's this? Threatening me with Vector now, are you? Be nice, or I might just send two certain redheads and their friend over to your house to give you a little wake-up call on your first day of school! Anyway, a certain stepsister of mine was lucky enough to get Vector as her volleyball coach! How he got the job of coaching _girl's_ volleyball, I'll never know...

lightyearsaway: Don't worry, it gets funnier; chapter one was just a bit of an intro. !-)

I picked my brain for a long time, but I only have enough ideas to make this story about six chapters long, and I'd like to make it a bit longer than that, so if you have any ideas, let me know! I'll try to work them into the story, but I probably won't be able to use every idea I get. Also, keep it in mind that they're in London, so any ideas should try and contain things that they'd be able to do there. 

On a different yet sadly familiar note, this will probably be my last update for at least a week because unless homework is declared unconstitutional within the next twenty-four hours, it's more likely than not that I'll be up to my eyebrows in it (and since I'm quite tall for my age, that's saying something)!

Don't forget to review! I accept anonymous reviews, so you don't even have to log in or anything. Even a "nice story" and nothing more is fine! Also, please be honest when you review. If you see anything at all that you disagree with, (even spelling or grammar) let me know so that I can make it better. Don't worry about sounding critical; I'll probably thank you for it if it helps me improve! :-)


	3. Chapter 3: Mischief at the Movies

Author's Note: Well, it finally happened: my muse has run away. Anyone seen her? Anyway, I blame her for the way this chapter turned out. 

Disclaimer: Me? *points at self* Own Harry Potter? I wish! 

Chapter 3: Mischief at the Movies

After they'd recovered from nearly being obliterated by a corrupted-youth hating librarian, Fred, George, and Lee pulled out the map of the city and walked down the street, trying to decide where they should go next. 

"I don't really care where we go next," said Lee after a while, "Just as long as George doesn't pick it." 

"What, you don't trust me anymore?" said George in a voice of false hurt.

"Never have," said Lee with a smirk. George hit him over the head with the map. Fred, who had been watching their antics in obvious entertainment, stopped so suddenly that George ran into him from behind and nearly fell over. 

"Why'd you stop?" asked George in slight annoyance as he steadied himself. Fred turned to George and Lee.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," said Fred, "But I'd say that bloke over there looks familiar, wouldn't you?" He pointed down the street a few buildings away to where a movie theatre was located. Inside of the ticket booth staring at them in a rather unflattering manner was a short balding man with a face almost as scarlet as the uniform he was wearing. George and Lee looked back at the man for a moment, then grinned as they recognized him.

"Lingsworth," said George simply, waving cheerily at Lingsworth, who responded with a rather rude hand gesture.

"Oh look, he remembers us!" said Lee brightly. "Shall we go over and say hello?"

"Oh yes," said Fred, the look in his eyes saying all too clearly that he intended on saying much more than a simple hello. They walked down to the theatre, the grins on their faces increasing as the infuriated look on Lingsworth's face grew the closer they got.

"Hello, Lingsworth, it's been a while!" said Lee as they stopped in front of the ticket booth. A vein twitched in Lingsworth's right temple as he glared back at them.

"So it has," he said curtly. "I see that you three haven't changed a bit." His tone of voice showed that he didn't intend it as a compliment. Fred nodded brightly.

"Nah, we've been too busy being successful," he said, a smirk twitching at his lips as he eyed Lingsworth's uniform. Apparently, the man wasn't giving any more lectures on public welfare. Lingsworth drew himself up straight, though he was so short that this made little difference even with the box he was standing on.

"Doing what, dare I ask?" he said huffily. "Telling more of your rude jokes on street corners?"

"No, we prefer parks," said George. "That's where we got our start, as you remember." Lingsworth shuddered with not-so-suppressed fury.

"Are you buying a ticket or not? If not, then kindly go away and stop badgering me!" he said shrilly.

"Buying a ticket? For what?" asked Fred, genuinely curious this time. Lingsworth let out an exasperated huff of air through his nose and pointed to the theatre behind him.

"For the theatre," he said irritably.

"A theatre as in a _movie theatre_?" asked Lee, who had taken Muggle Studies at Hogwarts and vaguely remembered hearing about such things.

_"Yes!"_ said Lingsworth, no doubt thinking that they were only trying to annoy him further. "Either buy a ticket or _leave me alone!"_

"Fine, then, we'll take three tickets to...um...that show there," said Lee quickly, pointing to a poster the first poster that caught his eye which looked as though it had come out of a child's picture book. Large fluffy-looking letters underneath the picture read _The Adventures of Bobo the Bunny._

Lingsworth looked from Lee to the poster and back again. Then, seeming to realize that he could be rid of them by this time the next minute, he placed three tickets for the show on the counter. Lee pulled out the wad of Muggle money they'd gotten from Gringotts, counted out the correct amount, and handed it to Lingsworth.

"Now get out of my sight!" said Lingsworth as Lee picked up the tickets.

"Gladly," said Fred, carefully drawing his wand from his pocket and stepping behind George slightly so that he could aim it through a small gap in George's arm without being seen. "Oh, and you may want to step off of that box."

"Why--" began Lingsworth, but he was cut off as the box he'd been standing on jerked out from under him and sent him toppling to the ground.

"No reason," said Fred lightly, slipping his wand back into his pocket as Lingsworth struggled to stand back up. "By then!" And they hurried inside the theatre before Lingsworth could get back to his feet.

"Nice one, mate!" said Lee, slapping Fred gleefully on the back as they handed their tickets to a man inside and proceeded to the lobby.

"Yeah, but maybe you should have done him a favor and used an Engorgement Charm instead. Bloke's just as titchy as he was the last time we saw him," added George. 

"So," said Fred, changing the subject, "What do you do in a movie theatre?"

"Er...well," said Lee, "From what I remember about theatres in Muggle Studies--"

"Which probably isn't a lot, knowing you," interjected George with a devious smirk.

"--I think," continued Lee, glaring at George, "they're a place where Muggles can watch shows on these massive...er, what do they call them? Oh yeah, fellytisions."

"You mean _televisions_, right?" said Fred, looking thoughtful. "Dad brought one home once, and he said something about Muggles watching shows on them."

"Yeah, right, televisions," said Lee. "Anyway, we just go to the room where the show we came to see's playing."

"Right then, sounds simple enough. Now then," said George, having spotted the snack bar and the small crowd of moviegoers gathered in front of it, "let's get some snacks. Pity they'll only have Muggle candy; I wouldn't mind a large box of Chocolate Frogs right about now."

They headed over to the snack bar and got into a line behind a woman and a small child. The child, a small brown-haired girl no older than five or so, didn't appear very happy about having to wait in the line and was throwing a bit of a tantrum as the woman (whom Fred guessed was her mother) tried to get her to calm down while smiling embarrassedly at the people who were beginning to stare.

"Mummy, make the line move!" said the little girl, stamping her foot impatiently on the ground. Her mother looked down at her with a slightly exasperated look on her face.

"Mummy can't do anything right now, Ally. Just quiet down now," said the woman, peering around the line and tapping her foot anxiously. 

"But I want see Bobo now!" said the little girl, crossing her arms across her chest and fixing her mother with a sour look on her face. Lee turned to Fred and George while the girl continued to whine at her mother, a grim look on his face.

"Mates, meet our movie companion," he muttered, nodding his head toward the girl, who had just started making faces at an elderly man in the next line. Fred and George assumed identical expressions of horror. 

"You know what?" whispered George. "I reckon we've just found Snape's long-lost daughter."

"Too right," agreed Fred, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small box that caused Lee to smirk.

"Ah, haven't seen those in a while," he said as Fred tipped a small red-colored sweet into his hand before putting the Skiving Snackbox back into his pocket and bending over to where he was at face level with the little girl, who was now sulking grumpily while her mother relished the moment of silence on her daughter's behalf.

"Hey kid," he muttered, "Want some candy?"

The sour look on the little girl's face vanished instantly. She cupped her hands in front of her and smiled sweetly as she nodded.

"Here you go," said Fred, placing the sweet into her hand and watching as she popped it greedily into her mouth. Lee and George did their best to keep from sniggering and alerting her mother. 

After a moment of sucking, the little girl rubbed her nose and said, "It tastes funny." She frowned and rubbed her nose again before turning to tug on her mother's shirt.

"Bubby, by nose feels fuddy," she said. Her mother turned and glanced down at her absentmindedly, the screamed. A steady stream of blood was flowing from the little girl's nose and collecting in a puddle at her feet. Her scream caused several people to turn and face her. There were several gasps and an explosion of murmurs, causing the impression that an entire hive of bees had found its way into the theatre. The little girl started crying loudly.

"Bake it stob, Bubby, bake it stob!" she yelled, stamping her foot and causing blood to splatter over her shoe.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my!" said her mother, speaking very fast and low as she scooped the little girl into her arms and ran for the exit. "EVERYONE OUT OF MY WAY!" she bellowed as she reached the door. "MY LITTLE GIRL'S GOT A NOSEBLEED!"

"You know," said George thoughtfully as the door slammed behind her and the babble of talk slowly decreased into what it had been before, "I reckon that woman could compete with her daughter in her shouting matches if she had a mind to."

"Probably. Oh well, at least we can enjoy the movie without that kid whining the entire time," said Lee, moving up to the counter as a large man carrying a bucket of popcorn waddled away. 

**********

Five minutes later, the three of them made their way inside the theatre where their movie was playing, their arms laden with the popcorn, drinks, and candy they'd purchased at the snack bar. 

"Smells like stale popcorn in here," said Lee, wrinkling his nose as they sat down in three empty seats. Fred took at deep wiff of air and nearly spilt his popcorn as he coughed.

"Yeah, we should try and market it. It could be right up there with Essence of Dungbomb," he said. "So, what's this movie about?"

"Dunno," said Lee with a shrug, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. "I just picked the first one I saw." Just as he finished speaking, the lights dimmed, and a picture appeared on the screen.

"Hope it's exciting," said George. A man with a little boy sitting next to him in the row below them turned around and said, "Shhhh!"

"'Shhhhh' yourself!" hissed George back, though he kept his voice down as he said, "I think it's starting."

Almost as if to mark his words, the screen showed a large, cartoon-looking meadow with brightly colored flowers and trees. A rather fat-looking rabbit wearing purple knickerbockers and an over-friendly smile appeared and began to do a jig. The small children in the audience began to laugh and clap, but Fred, George, and Lee gaped at the movie screen in disgust.

"Muggles actually _watch_ this stuff?" said George, revolted. Fred, however, rounded on Lee.

"Brilliant, Lee!" he said savagely. "You picked a movie that even Ginny wouldn't have liked."

"Well, you two didn't try to stop me," said Lee shortly, slouching back in his seat and taking a large, irritable bite out of a candy bar. "How was I supposed to know?" A loud obnoxious song filled the theatre; it appeared as though the rabbit had been joined by a fox and a squirrel and was now singing. This in itself was tolerable. What wasn't was that everyone under the age of seven in the theatre had also joined in. Fred stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed loudly to himself, but it was no use.

"Make it stop!" he said loudly, surprising himself at how much he sounded like the little girl from the lobby, but the singing was so loud that only George and Lee heard him.

"SHUT IT!" bellowed Lee, throwing his entire box of popcorn at a rather large cluster of children. Whether it was his shout or the shouts of the children as they found themselves covered in a buttery mess or the fact that the song ended right at that moment that caused it, Lee wasn't sure, but to his relief the audience quieted down and resumed watching the movie. Fred, George, and Lee ceased their chance and tried to leave, but the moment they stood up and blocked the view of the people behind them, they were met by shouts demanding that they sit back down. Realizing that having an entire theatre of crazed moviegoers against just the three of them wasn't likely to end in their favor, they had no choice but to comply.

"You know, mindless torture isn't very fun when you aren't the one causing it," said George grumpily after a few minutes, flicking some of his popcorn at the back of a woman's head.

"Yeah," agreed Lee, rubbing his ears gingerly. "That was worse than any Potions class that Snape ever taught." 

"Wouldn't fancy seeing him right about now all the same," muttered Fred, glaring moodily at the screen as though trying to burn a hole in it with his eyes. The closest he got to succeeding was when the characters in the movie lit a campfire and danced but, thankfully, did not sing.

"So tell us, oh wise Muggle Studies student," he said dully, "Are all Muggle movies this _fascinating_?" The only response he got was a faint snore; Lee had fallen asleep. Glancing past Lee, Fred saw that George was still awake, though he had his hand in his pocket and seemed to be contemplating whether or not he should just pull out his wand and blow his head off to end the torture. When he felt Fred watching him, he turned his head slightly and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"It's never going to end, is it?" he said. Fred sighed and looked at the screen just in time to see the rabbit and his fellow animal chums dive into a lake for a swim. Turning back to his twin, he shook his head sadly.

"Nope. I reckon Snape'll jump onto his desk and do a jig in the middle of Potions before this rubbish is over," he said. George nodded.

"Well, I'm not waiting that long," he said flatly. "It's either going to end now, or I'm going to make it end myself." 

"How?" asked Fred. "Any move we make will set off the Muggles, and they're bound to see if we throw so much as a Dungbomb."

"Look," said George, dropping his voice and shifting in his seat to face Fred fully. "Here's what I'm thinking. Do you remember that spell we learned in our first year, the one to make objects fly?"

_"Wingardium Leviosa," _said Fred, nodding slightly. "Why?"

"I think it's just the thing we need," said George, the familiar spark of mischief beginning to flicker in his eyes. Fred arched an eyebrow and felt a smirk tugging at his lips as he cottoned on. Turning from his twin, he scanned the people sitting in the front row and spotted the man who'd purchased a large bucket of popcorn just before they'd bought their snacks. 

"How about him?" he muttered, turning to see that George was in the process of carefully removing his wand from his pocket. George glanced to where Fred was pointing and nodded.

"Perfect," he said. Fred nodded and turned to face the screen, pretending to be lost in the movie while George waited took aim. This was no easy task, especially since there was the chance that one of the Muggles sitting behind them would only have to look away from the screen to see him. Finally, he managed to get his wand in position. Praying that the Muggles were still completely fascinated with the movie, he whispered, _"Wingardium Leviosa."_

The effect was both instantaneous and affective. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the bucket of popcorn the man was holding lifted out of his hands and floated upward, suspended in mid-air about four feet up. There were several gasps and quite a few screams as Muggles realized what was blocking part of the screen, and the man to whom the popcorn belonged sank to the floor in a dead faint.

"GHOSTS!" someone shouted. "RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!" There were several more screams at this point as everyone sprang to their feet with the exception of Fred, George, and Lee (who'd woken up in the sudden noise). 

"What happened?" he asked, watching the fleeing Muggles with curiosity. "Did they finally realize the horrific nature of the film?" Fred and George exchanged a grin as the three of them stood and strode calmly out of the theatre.

"Oh, you could say that," said George lightly.

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There's probably a few spelling mistakes in here, but I don't have very much time left so just tell me if you spot any and I'll come back and fix them when I have time. I'll try to update sooner next time!

Response to reviewers:

Living Proof of Judgement: Did you use the "Dragon" thing on your little sister yet? I'll bet she wasn't too pleased if you did, but then again, she is a little sister and there's just no pleasing them,as we all know. *smiles*

MarauderLuver4-ever: I was a bit shocked about the library as well (the idea just hit me as I was typing. I bet George threw it at me on purpose). I see that you also have the absolute _thrill_ *smiles sarcastically* of going back to school now as well. I don't know about you, but I'm already looking forward to the Christmas holidays! 

Psychozzy: Yay! A fellow George fan! Thank you for the good luck regarding school (good luck to you as well! :-) I'm having a bit of trouble with the update part, though. *smiles sheepishly*

S.D. Chesko: Since I couldn't work their going to a school into the story, I hope the part with Ally will compensate for them torturing annoying little kids. And as to you knowing where I live, bear this in mind: I know where _you_ live too! *laughs evilly*

Mr. Poopy Doopy: Too bad. Maybe you'll review before S.D. this time! WHAT? I actually made _you_ speechless for a whole _minute_? *gasps and falls out of computer chair in shock* Now THAT'S scary! !-)

TiGgEr5: I'm glad you like the story so far. I'll see what I can do about the sports idea, as I'd rather like to see their reaction to that as well! :-)

carlos-s. lover: Cool about the Mars thingy; I can't wait to read it! You don't like some of your classes? I'm actually jealous; when I was in seventh grade, those were my favorite classes!

Strayc@t: I'm glad that you enjoy my stories. When I wrote that review you mentioned, I never expected to gain a new reviewer, so I'm thrilled that you decided to check out my stories! :-) 

Estenark: I'm glad you were able to find time to read this story; I missed hearing from you! But now your back! *cheers* I was really honored when you said that I brought out the spirit of the book. Fred, George, and Lee are all such awesome characters, and it was really important to me from the start to try and keep them that way, so I'm glad you like the way I'm portraying them. :-)

Fare thee well, reviewers! I'm off to do my ever-so-exciting homework. *cheers dully*


	4. Chapter 4: A Real Kick Out of Sports

Author's Note: Yes, this is actually an update! *large audience gasps* It's been way too long since I've updated, I know, but life has been both busy and slightly confusing for me lately, and it's been hard not only to find time to actually type up chapters but also get into the right mood to type them. This story _will_ be finished, though, so don't worry; I'm not abandoning it. It may just take me a while to finish it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger…*goes on for several hours, listing all remaining characters* They all belong to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 4: A Real Kick Out of Sports

"Remind me to _never_ go near a movie theatre again!" said Fred, blinking against the bright sunlight as he, George, and Lee stepped outside and headed down the street. "I don't think I'll be able to get that stupid song out of my head as long as I live." 

"Yeah," said George with a slight shudder. "That movie should win the National Dungbomb Award; it stunk."

"Dunno know why they let children in," added Lee, massaging his temples as though trying to get rid of a pounding headache. "It'll give 'em nightmares for sure."

"Speaking of nightmares," said George, pausing with his hands in his trouser pockets and looking ahead with a look of mingled amusement and bewilderment, "What d'you reckon happened to _them_?"

He nodded his head further up the street. Fred and Lee followed his gaze and were just in time to see a group of men dressed in brightly colored sports clothing with cleats slung over their shoulders, one of them carrying a football (a/n: soccer ball; it's called football over there), disappear into a building.

"No idea," said Lee, his tone the same as the expression on George's face. "They were dressed odd, though, that's for sure."

"Let's see what they're up to," said Fred, striding forward and ignoring George, who was following behind with Lee and muttering something along the lines of, "It had better not be a movie theatre."

Upon entering, however, Fred, George, and Lee saw that George needn't have worried, for the building turned out to be a pub, and a very sports-oriented pub at that. Large televisions lined the walls, each showing a different type of sport being played by Muggles dressed in various clothing, and posters that depicted much the same thing (in still form, of course) lined the walls. There were several small round tables filled with Muggles, mostly men, who seemed to be cheering at the televisions one moment, then swearing very loudly at them the next, and the bartender, a Muggle of about thirty or so, was busy trying to serve drinks at the rate the crowd was ordering them. Fred turned to George and Lee, trying not to cough as he breathed in the musty scent of whiskey and tobacco. 

"Bit odd, really, how these Muggles entertain themselves," he said, jerking his head toward one of the various television sets while trying to breathe in through his mouth to see if that helped with the smell and discovering that it only made him choke rather than cough.

"Too right," said Lee. "They're not even on broomsticks! Where's the excitement in chasing a black and white ball all over a field, getting all out of breath and sweaty? Why not just hop on a broom and _throw _the ball around? No fun at all if you don't run the risk of falling at least fifty feet to the ground."

"They certainly seem to like the teams, though, don't they?" said George as a particularly loud cheer went through the pub.

"Reckon it's because that's all they know," said Fred, as though commenting on a child that had been walking around with a blindfold on for its entire life. "Don't know that there's a better sport out there."

Though the programs weren't much to their liking, the sight of the Muggles shouting themselves hoarse at the televisions as though thinking that the referees on the game fields could actually hear them proved to be a very amusing sight in deed, and the three of them went and sat down at a booth to watch the drama.

"That team isn't doing to well, though, is it?" said George after a while, indicating a television across the room where a bunch of men were busy trying to reclaim the ball that the other team had just taken from them for the umpteenth time. 

Lee glanced over at the screen just in time to see one of the people on the team that George had commented on being flattened by a rather large member on the other team and shook his head sadly. "I haven't seen anything so pathetic since that match against Hufflepuff back in our third year."

_Slam!_

Fred, George, and Lee turned around as the sound of glass slamming into wood rang through the air of the pub like a gunshot. In the booth behind theirs, a man with bulging muscles and a bald head was glaring at Lee, foam from his whiskey dripping down his face from when he'd slammed his mug onto the table.

"What did you just say?" he said through clenched teeth, his hand gripping his mug so tightly that small cracks appeared in the glass. 

Lee gulped and glanced at Fred and George for help, but they were eying the man warily. "Er...nothing, mate," he quickly, not wanting any trouble from a man who was, though sitting down, obviously much taller than him. "Nothing at all."

The man from the table rose slowly and wiped off his dripping face in one swift movement, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Lee, who tried to force an apologetic look onto his face and feeling, to his alarm, that he'd managed a smirk instead. Even this look slipped from his face, however, as the man edged out of his booth and walked over to their booth. Every time one of the man's leather boots hit the ground with a low _thud_, it was as though the volume of the entire pub was turned down a notch until everyone in the pub was looking at Fred, George, Lee, and the man, a tense silence taking the place of their previous jabbering. The only sound that could be heard was the continuous stream of commentary from the televisions, though no one was paying attention to that any longer. The man stopped right next to the bench on the other side of Fred, George, and Lee's booth and slid deftly into it, leaning forward as he sat so that his face was only inches from Lee's.

"Nothing?" he repeated softly, sending the smell of whiskey into Lee's face. "Are you sure? Only from over there, it sounded like you were insulting my team."

Several gasps split the silence of the pub and a few mutters that sounded horribly like "he's doomed, that one" reached Lee's ears. The bartender, who had been filling a tankard of whiskey, set the drink on the counter and began to head in their direction, his eyes fixed on the man.

"Now listen here, Rob," he said, addressing the man in an authoritative tone. "You've already taken out two of my customers this week, and I won't...won't...ahhhhh," he said, his voice fading away as Rob sent him a look of pure rage. Suddenly, the bartender looked about as tall as Lingsworth, and when he spoke, even his voice seemed to have shrank considerably. "I-I won't...won't have anyone insulting your team. Carry on, then!"

And he scuttled back to the bar. Rob now turned back to Lee.

"Now, where were we?" he said, his voice low and menacing.

"You were just about to leave and go block someone else's view of the television," said Fred, rising to Lee's defence. Lee shot Fred an appreciative look while the man turned to gaze at him with a look that was anything but appreciative.

"You stay out of this," he said. "That is, unless you'd like to join your friend here in the little lesson I'm about to teach him."

"No, we've had enough lessons in our life, thanks," said George from Fred's other side. "Never did very well in them, of course, but we did graduate...early, mind you."

This was partly true; he and Fred had left school on their own in their seventh year due to a particularly horrible teacher. The man, however, did not seem to think that there was anything funny about George's bold comment. Quite the contrary, he lunged forward suddenly and grabbed George by the neck of his shirt.

"I've changed my mind," said the man evenly, drawing one of his toned arms back behind his head and aiming his fist at George's face. "You can go first."

Fred and Lee both made moves to stop the man, but Rob let out a loud yelp of pain and released George before they'd even set a finger on him. Still trying to figure out what had happened, Fred felt George pushing him and Lee quickly out of the booth.

"Don't just stand there, run!" he said, proceeding to push them to the door at a run as though Fred and Lee were small children who didn't know what the word "run" meant.

As they made a hasty retreat against a vast babble of murmurs that had broken out, Fred glanced back over his shoulder to see that the man had gotten out of the booth and had his legs squeezed together as he shuffled toward them with a look of intense pain on his face, saying, in a very high voice, "Come back here!"

George did not allow Fred and Lee to stop running until they had made it down the street a good way from the pub. Lee, who had apparently missed the expression on the man's face, turned to George with a look of both astonishment and confusion.

"What in the name of Quidditch _happened_?" he asked.

Fred raised his eyebrows and turned to George, who seemed to be resisting the urge to smirk broadly. "Don't tell me you..."

"Uh-huh," said George simply.

"Bugger," said Fred softly, shaking his head and looking at George with new respect. "I wanted to do that to Snape about fifty times a day while we were at Hogwarts."

Lee, however, still seemed to be unaware as to what they were talking about. "Wanted to do _what_?" he asked exasperatedly, as though it was a secret that was being purposely kept from him. 

Fred and George exchanged a knowing glance, then George turned to Lee, the smirk he'd been fighting beginning to creep onto his face. "Well," he said at last, trying and failing to look a bit sorry for what he'd done. "Let's just say this: that bloke won't be too eager to watch a ball get kicked around on television for a while"

Lee looked confused for a moment, then his eyes widened as he at last understood. "You mean you kicked him in the--"

"Yep," said George, shaking his head at Lee's slowness. "Honestly, Lee, I was starting to think I'd have to re-enact the thing with you as old Rob before you got the picture."

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Sorry if this chapter wasn't as good as the other ones, but, as I said, I'm having a bit of trouble with this story, and I'd appreciate it if you reviewed anyway! *smiles hopefully*

Response to reviewers:

Psychozzy: I love it when that happens. That is, I'm thinking about a story one minute and then see that it's been updated the next! As to the psychic idea, I'll see if I can work it in, as it'll be interesting to see what they make of a psychic after their experience with Trelawney who is, as we all know, a truly _wonderful_ *smiles sarcastically* psychic. Are the hot Russian construction workers still around? If so, send 'em here! !-)

lightyearsaway: I'm glad you thought it was funny! I only hope you enjoyed this one as much, seeing as how it doesn't seem to me like it's up to my usual standards. Ah well, school's bothering me at the moment, so I blame it for the way everything's turning out. *glances at waiting homework with a look of loathing*

Tori: Ah, so you like George as well? I'm not sure what it is about his character that I like, but he just seems a bit more down to earth that Fred does, though I like Fred as well. Luckily, though, the fact that George is more down to earth does not, in any way, keep him from causing loads of problems for the Londoners to deal with, as a certain Rob became rather painfully *smirks* aware of in this chapter. :-)

kind of detached: I laughed when I read your review, as it seems as though the term "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" could apply not only to that, but also to just about anywhere Fred, George, or Lee happen to turn up, don't you think?

Mr. Poopy Doopy: Don't worry, you beat S.D. this time! I always like to see which one of you manages to review first, and it seems to amuse Fred, George, and Lee as well...

Fred: You bet it does; I just won ten Galleons. George bet that S.D. would win.

George: *muttering under breath* Well, she won last time...

Lee: I bet _both_ of you ten Galleons and a Dungbomb that S.D. wins this time.

Fred and George (no longer sulking): We'll take that bet.

Oh dear, now they're gambling! What is this world coming to?! *slips over to Lee and mutters, "Count me in on that as well."* 

S.D. Chesko: Ah, we have a challenge! *Fred, George, and Lee cheer excitedly* The little review war that you and Mr. Poopy Doopy have started with each other is probably the most entertaining aspect of this story. *Fred, George, and Lee all look indignantly at me* Er...other than Fred, George, and Lee, of course. *Fred, George, and Lee grin and nod in approval* Just pretend that Rob was Vector...*smirks at the thought* Ah, if only George could've kicked _him_ there!

MarauderLuver4-ever: I see that homework is driving you insane (with the help of Sirius) as well. My advice is to invest in one of Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes; that'll get you out of school, at least. Hm...a zoo, huh? I like that one! They'll be used to zoos, as that's probably what their bedrooms look like, at any rate.

Fred: *indignantly* They do _not_ look like zoos!

George: Yeah, they're more of junkyards, really.

Now that the chapter's over, 

You know just what to do.

Just go down to that button,

And send me a review!


	5. Chapter 5: Trust to Fate

Author's Note: I seriously doubt anyone is still reading this story, but I've been feeling way beyond guilty about not updating in…um…wow, almost a year. Soooo…if anyone IS still reading this, a million apologies for my laziness. This will be the last chapter of RtL, and let's just say that K.D. Toling is retiring from writing fan fics (well, writing and posting them, anyway) once it's finished.

Disclaimer: I'll just go ahead and state the obvious one last time: I don't own anything of or relating to _Harry Potter_.

Chapter Five: Trust to Fate

"Now what?"

Fred and George, who had both been pondering the same question, turned to Lee, who was regarding them with an expression reminiscent of a small child that had grown bored. After their less-than-pleasurable run-in with Rob, the twins and Lee had decided that it would be wise to put as much distance between themselves and the pub as possible, so they'd ducked down the first alley in sight and Apparated to a different neighborhood. They had then spotted an ice cream shop and, comfortable that their chances of a second encounter with their new acquaintance were minimal, proceeded inside to purchase three much-needed banana splits to calm their nerves. Now, however, as they sat under the umbrella of one of the tables outside the parlor with their ice cream nearly finished, any remaining anxiety had long since evaporated and the familiar itch for mischief and excitement had come over them once again.

"Well," offered Fred at last, setting his plastic spoon down on his napkin, "I don't think it should be anywhere near another pub. Lee's liable to get us killed with another of his outbursts."

"Shut up," grumbled Lee, rounding on him. "You act like it's _my _fault that bloke has a problem with his temper."

"It was your fault he used it on us."

"Why, I oughta--"

"Oh, shut up, both of you!" said George, looking exasperatedly from one to the other. "I can't think with the two of you going at it!"

"He started it!"

"_I_ started it? _You're _the one that--"

George sighed in defeat and went back to his thoughts, doing his best to ignore the fierce row that was now underway between his brother and friend. Glancing up at the sky, he was surprised to see that though it was only mid-afternoon, dark clouds had begun to gather in the sky, one of them drifting in front of the sun to block its light even as he watched. It appeared as though, despite their own plans, the weather had plans of its own, and George realized that if they were to go anywhere else before the rain started and they had to return home or get wet that he would have to be the one to get them going. Pushing aside his empty ice cream dish, he leaned forward slightly over the table and looked across the street at the various shops and offices that Muggles were entering and exiting in an almost constant stream. Almost immediately, his eyes were drawn to one building in particular: a small wooden shop with peeling green paint next to a café. Yet it wasn't so much the shop as it was the words written on the glass window at the front of the building that caught and held his attention, for there, in flowing lavender script, were the words _Madam Dabbler's Psychic Works: Palm Readings, Astrology, and Much, Much More!_

Almost unbidden, a grin began tugging at George's lips, and he felt the sudden urge to laugh. Perhaps it was his past experiences with Professor Trelawney, the fluke Divination teacher at Hogwarts, but he had misgivings as to the validity of the building's claims. He had never really paid much attention in Divination, but he knew enough on the subject to know that a true Seer was a rare occurrence in the wizarding world, and the idea of a _Muggle _claiming to be well-versed in the art seemed almost overwhelmingly ridiculous…and, thought George with a grin, highly entertaining. His decision made, George turned back to a still-quarreling Fred and Lee and, realizing that they weren't about to stop any time soon, pulled his wand out of his pocket under the table and hit both of them with a Silencing Charm, putting an end to their bickering.

"_Much _better," he said lightly, smirking at the looks of surprised anger that Fred and Lee were now directing in his direction. Satisfied that he had their attention, George removed the spell and put his wand back in his pocket.

"What was that for?" demanded Lee, but George ignored him, turning instead to point across the street at the shop he'd spotted moments before.

"Look over there and tell me what you see," he said.

Lee, still glowering, complied, as did Fred, and soon the anger was gone from their faces, replaced instead by looks of mild amusement.

"The psychic shop?"

"Yes. Bring back any memories?"

"Many, each as boring and pointless as the next," replied Fred, shaking his head in mock dismay. "Ah, wasted youth."

Lee smirked at his friend's response before turning his eyes to George, the familiar gleam of mischief all too apparent in them. "And you were thinking of going to have a look?" He jerked his head across the street in the direction of the shop.

"Naturally," said George, returning Lee's smirk. "After all that Trelawney taught us"-- Fred and Lee sniggered heavily at this --"we're sort of obligated to, don't you agree?"

"Oh, I agree," said Fred, chuckling as he rose to his feet with a smirk that widened when George and Lee followed suit. "I agree and _then _some."

The shop was shadowy as they entered, the only source of light being the hundreds of lit candles that were spread along a shelf that spanned all the way around the shop along the walls from either side of the entrance. This provided an effect that was both impressive and overwhelming, for though the constant dance of the shadows as the flames flickered was impressive and added an almost mystic air to the shop, the combined scents of all of the candles burning at once resulted in a smell that was so strong that it was almost suffocating. Choking slightly for a moment, it wasn't until the three friends became accustomed to the atmosphere of the shop and were able to regulate their breathing that they noticed the rest of the shop.

It seemed very old-fashioned in its design; the floor was made of dark, dust-covered wooden planks, and the bits of the walls that weren't hidden behind various posters of stars, moons, and mystical creatures seemed to be comprised of paneling of the same color and texture. There were several shelves filled with books on fortune telling and other forms of psychic work, most of them extremely battered, and here and there small tables piled high with cracked crystal balls, half-burnt candles, and what looked like star-tipped plastic wands with glittery streamers attached to them dotted the floor, their long white table cloths giving them the peculiar appearance of short ghosts with various items balanced on their heads. In the very back of the shop was a small counter with a register on it, and behind the counter was a doorway with beads of every color imaginable strung onto strands that hung from it. Their eyes were still on the beads when a stout woman about a foot shorter than Fred bustled through them, wearing a long, sweeping violet dress with a lavender ribbon around the middle. Her dark hair was tucked up under a turban, likewise lavender, and the moment she spotted Fred, George, and Lee, all of whom were surprised by her sudden entrance and all of whom were fighting the urge to smirk at the similarities between their old Divination teacher and the oddly-dressed Muggle standing before them, her face slid into a faraway smile and she took a step slowly toward them.

"Hello, my dears," she said dreamily. "I am Madam Dabbler, expert of all that was, is, and is yet to be. What is it you desire?"

George glanced over at Fred and saw that his twin was regarding the woman with raised eyebrows and a look that suggested that he was going to explode from trying not to snigger if he was forced to suppress his amusement any longer. Seeing that the expression on Lee's face was identical to his brother's, George gathered himself, assumed a straight face (or rather, as close to a straight face as he could under the circumstances), and addressed the woman, who was now peering at all three of them intently.

"Er…yes, hello," he said, allowing his smirk to manifest itself as a smile. "We were wondering if you could…erm…"

"Predict our future," supplied Lee quickly, jerking out of his silent battle of wills in time to provide an end to George's unfinished request. George met his eye and silently thanked him. Madam Dabbler, oblivious to the exchange, beamed at Lee's answer.

"Of course, my dears, of course!" she chirruped. "Would you like a palm reading, or a crystal ball session, or--"

"The crystal ball sounds fine, thanks," interrupted Fred loudly, realizing that the woman was prepared to go on for quite some time.

"Excellent! Of course," added the woman hastily, her dreamy demeanor slipping for a moment, "I knew that would be your choice. The stars told me in advance that you would be coming."

Fred wanted to ask if the stars had also told her that she had something hanging from her nose, but before he could speak she turned her back to them and motioned for them to follow her through the beads to a back room.

As he walked through the beads with Fred and George following behind him, Lee expected to see a room similar to the one he'd just left, and so his mouth fell open in surpised amusement as the beads parted and revealed what looked like a storage room with piles of wooden crates stacked precariously to the ceiling covering almost every square inch of floor and leaving only a small square of open space in front of him in the center of which there was a crystal ball (sitting in what looked suspiciously like a cat food dish) on a crate with four upturned buckets around it, creating a makeshift table and seats. Unlike the first room, this room was lit by only one candle on the crate, and Lee couldn't help but notice the ring of duck tape that seemed to be holding the bottom of the candle to the top. Behind him, Lee could hear either Fred or George, probably Fred, sniggering quietly as the twins followed him into the room.

Madam Dabbler, too caught up in her dream state to notice the reaction of the trio, hummed slightly as she waddled over to one of the buckets and sat down with a _plump_.

"Come, my dears, come!" she encouraged, gesturing for Fred, George, and Lee to take the remaining seats around the crate. "We must all sit before I can begin."

The three friends looked at each other, then all made a mad dash for the seat opposite Madam Dabbler so that they wouldn't have to sit next to her. Fred reached it first, looking both triumphant and relieved, while Lee and George, both shooting envious glares at Fred, settled reluctantly into the seats on either side of him and the woman.

"Now," said Madam Dabbler, folding her hands on top of the crate and peering good-naturedly around at the three of them as though they were old friends who hadn't spoken in some time. "Whose future shall I predict first? Wait, don't tell me!" she added, waving her hand to silence them before anything could be said. She closed her eyes and pressed her temples with her fingers, concentrating. Faintly, Lee thought he could hear her muttering something along the lines of "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe," but before he could be certain, Madam Dabbler's eyes flew open and she pointed across the crate at Fred, who jumped as though she'd tried to hit him. "You!" she cried victoriously. "_You _wish to have your future predicted first!"

She must have taken Fred's shocked expression as an affirmation, for she nodded briskly, evidently pleased with herself, and turned her eyes to the crystal ball, her hand fumbling against her side of the crate, obviously looking for something. A moment later, Fred heard a click, and a foggy light filled the crystal ball. Madam Dabbler leaned forward and stared into the mist, her round face looking even larger in its reflection. Fred saw her reach up and brush her nose quickly and smiled inwardly; it appeared as though 'the fates' had finally informed the Muggle of the object hanging from her nose.

To Fred's left, Lee was attempting to placate himself for the fact that he was more bored than he'd been since his final History of Magic class at Hogwarts by giving George a 'this-is-all-your-fault' look. Frustrated when he found that he was being duly ignored by his friend, however, he surveyed the room out of the corners of his eyes for something else to hold his interest. When he couldn't find anything, Lee exhaled grumpily and shoved his hands into his pockets. Then it was hard to say which he felt first: the smirk slipping onto his face or the cool wood of his wand brushing against his fingertips.

At last, Madam Dabbler raised her face and fixed Fred, who by now was half-asleep, with a solemn gaze.

"My dear," she said gravely. "It is my painful duty to inform you that the fates foretell of many obstacles in your path. Your world will soon come crashing down around you."

Fred didn't even have a chance to snort at the ridiculousness of her claim before a loud _crash_ ripped through the silence of the room and caused them all to jump and Madam Dabbler to scream. Turning, they all looked around to see what had happened. Off in a corner, almost beyond the small circle of light that their candle provided them, a smashed crate lay on the ground. Madam Dabbler let out her breath and turned back to them, her smile now twitching nervously.

"Must have fallen," she said quickly, more to herself than to them, before she shook herself slightly and looked back at Fred, ready to resume. "Let me see, where was I…ah, yes. The fates, I'm afraid, also warn that you'll soon fall ill--AAAAHHHH!!!!"

She screamed and pointed at Fred's face, her own fearfully pale. George followed her gaze and cried out as well, though more in surprise than horror.

"What?" demanded Fred, not understanding their reaction until he looked down at the crystal ball and saw that he had sickly-looking blackish-green patches all over his face. He was about to jump out of his seat when he felt Lee kick him in the shin. When he looked over, Lee winked and looked down to his left quickly. Following his friend's gaze, Fred was barely able to make out the sight of Lee's hand gripping his wand in the pale glow of the candle's light.

Understanding dawning, he winked back at Lee before assuming a look of false panic and turning to look at Madam Dabbler, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "What's happening to me?" he cried, the hidden amusement in his voice surprising George even more than the marks on his face. "What else do the fates say?!"

Madam Dabbler began to tremble now, her eyes darting toward the door as though she wanted to run out of the room but was frozen to her seat by her fear. In a quaking voice, she stammered, "Th-the fates…the fates s-s-say…that…that…"

"--that you _lie_!" roared a voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. George half rose, ready to bolt, but Fred reached over and grabbed his arm.

"Just wait," he muttered with a wink, and George, though he thought for a moment that his brother had gone mad, eased reluctantly back onto his seat.

Madam Dabbler was looking frantically around the darkened room. "Whoever you are, show yourself!" she yelled, though her voice cracked and came out more as a whimper.

Suddenly, the mist rose out of the crystal ball and threw itself at her, the voice that had spoken before yelling things like _"Phony!" _and _"Dabbler's a dud!" _while cynical laughter echoed throughout the room and caused the stacked crates to shudder. A split second later, the candle flame flickered and went out.

Madam Dabbler had apparently had enough. Screaming and swiping madly at the fog that was swirling around her, she sprang off of her bucket and ran madly from the room, becoming entangled in the beads as she did so and thrashing about so severely that a good deal of them snapped off and remained tangled about her as she ran screaming from the shop.

The deep cackling of the room subsided and was replaced almost instantly by Fred and Lee's roaring laughter. George, completely confused by everything that had just occurred, looked from one of them to the other in the bit of light that entered the room from the candles in the front of the shop.

"Are you both taking the mickey, or is someone going to tell me what's going on?" he snapped, irritated not so much by their light-hearted behavior as he was that he seemed to be the only one of them that didn't understand what was so funny.

Lee stopped laughing and smiled wryly at the disgruntled redhead. "Thought old Dabbler could use a hand with her 'predictions,'" he grinned, raising his wand so that George could see it. "That's probably the most accurate they've been in a long time."

George, still determined to be mad about being left out of the joke, nevertheless felt himself begin to grin as well. "You're probably right," he admitted at last, realizing that trying to remain angry was impossible and letting his grin slip freely onto his face.

Later that night, as the rain George had guessed was coming was pouring down outside, the twins and Lee were sitting in front of a roaring fire in their living room, playing Exploding Snap and drinking warm butterbeer as they relived the day's events, all of them chuckling when the reached the point in Madam Dabbler's shop, Lee laughing so hard as he reached forward to add to their card tower that he toppled into it, the resulting explosion and his singed face sending Fred and George into fresh roars of laughter.

"We certainly gave her a bit of a show, though." said George, still chuckling as his thoughts turned back to Madam Dabbler. "Poor old fraud."

"I can see the headline of tomorrow's Muggle newspaper already," said Fred with a grin. "_'Local Psychic Goes Psycho.'_"

"I'll never understand Muggles," remarked Lee after Fred's prediction had been thoroughly snickered over. "They either ignore magic altogether, or, when they actually want to see some, scream and run away the second they do."

"Yeah, but Lee, you've got to admit," said George, taking a sip of his butterbeer and smirking. "I don't think that even Dabbler's fates could have foreseen _that_."

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Whew! wipes brow and glances at clock It took me over _four hours _to crank out this chapter! Yep, it's official, I'm old and need to retire. Thank you to everyone read and reviewed this story, and if you're still by some miracle reading it, double thanks to you and kudos for your extreme patience! Also, thank you to everyone else that ever read and reviewed any of my other stories and for keeping me in line when it came to characters being in character and for all of the fabulous suggestions that contributed to each one. gathers all readers in a tight hug Goodbye and best of luck to all of you in everything you do…except S.D. Chesko and Mr. Poopy Doopy; you two are just weird! ;) Just kidding, guys!


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